The Amazing Spider-Man 3
by KToTheWow
Summary: Six months after the events of "The Amazing Spider-Man 2", Spidey has come back strong and better than ever! However, when a job competition named Eddie Brock enters the picture, Peter feels like he needs to up his game with the Bugle. Also, as if his life wasn't complicated enough, supervillians new and old begin to pop up, making Peter unsure if he can be the hero he wants to be.
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: The announcement of cancelling the Amazing Spider-Man series (The one with Andrew Garfield and Emma Stone) was truly heartbreaking for me. For one, Andrew was the perfect actor for the job and Marc Webb's direction for the series was nearly spot-on as an adaption of the comics. Second, we are left with a FREAKING. CLIFFHANGER. How has Gwen's death shaped Peter's life? Can he be as good as he was before? Are Harry and the mysterious man going to form the sinister six? Are we going to get a good movie with the symbiote?**

**I've taken on the liberty of writing my own version of _The Amazing Spider-Man 3,_ for both friends, family, and my own sanity. And, perhaps, this will help you, dear reader, as well. I will work on this as much as possible (As a college student, part-time employee, and a writer of my own original work, this may be difficult), but I guarantee this story will get done (eventually).**

**I encourage to please leave comments on what you like or dislike as you read. I'm not a perfect storyteller, and I would really like as much feedback as possible. However, until then, enjoy the story, and perhaps the new Spidey will be spectacular (or ultimate)! **

Prologue

It didn't take long for him to find the rubbing alcohol. In the drugstore, it was practically advertised on the shelf. He looked around him as he let his backpack down on the ground. No one was watching. Quickly and carefully, he grabbed two bottles and stuffed them in his backpack. He slung the pack over his shoulders.

"Woo!" He shouted as he neared the exit, trying to sound enthusiastic. The clerk just looked at him and went back to helping his customer. The boy slung off his backpack and, just as he reached the detectors in front of the door, threw his backpack up in the air and caught it on the other side of the detectors. No alarm went off. He was spot-free.

He went down the subway entrance at the corner and passed some homeless people until he made it to the man who hired him for the job. "Hey," he said to the man.

The man looked up at him. Long gray hair and beard, thin, cold blue eyes. "Have you got it?"

"Yeah." The boy took off the backpack and opened it, revealing the alcohol bottles plus some notebooks and textbooks. He took the bottles out and handed them to the man.

"Thank you. You've saved me and everyone else down here." His voice was articulate, and he spoke like he was very well educated.

"No problem. Anything I can do to help you guys."

He closed his pack and put back over his shoulder. He was about to turn to leave when the man said, "How much was it?"

The boy sighed. "It was nothing, sir. Don't worry about it."

The man laughed. "Unfortunately, I have to say that I wasn't planning on paying you for your services, but I just want to know how much it cost."

The boy stayed silent for a moment, coming up with a number. "$1.78, including tax."

"You're lying." The man said instantly. "You stole them, didn't you?"

The boy shifted his feet a little, looking at the ground. "How'd you know?"

The man turned the bottle toward the boy and pointed at the price listed on the bottle. $1.28. The actual total would've been just under three dollars.

"You really shouldn't steal." Said the man. "It only brings down your morality."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." The man said. "Everyone learns somehow. I remember when my son was younger, he'd steal his mother's Godiva chocolates."

"You have a son?" The boy was now curious.

"Yes." Said the man. "He's a bit older than you are now. He attends ESU now."

"Hey, I go there too. What's his name?"

The man smiled. "Peter Parker."


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

_No one seems to realize that stealing isn't good for the soul_. Thought Peter as a green blur soared below him and turned right at the intersection. _But what do you expect from a bird brain?_

Fifteen stories above the street, Peter shot a web at the corner of a building, bringing him around the block and giving him a clear sight of his target: an old geezer in a green flying suit. Peter sighed as he viewed the man through the lenses of his mask. An old guy turning to crime is one thing, but calling yourself the Vulture and having a costume to go with it? Peter almost felt sad for the guy. But hey, the metallic flying suit seemed to have given the Vulture an upper hand.

Peter swung his legs forward, picking up speed. He needed to catch this guy. Already the Vulture had robbed three banks in a month. The sooner this guy was off the streets, the better. Peter wasn't prepared to go mattress just yet. _I mean, really,_ he thought, _My mattress doesn't even give interest._

Once Peter got to the tip of one of his swings, the Vulture turned left. The building on the corner was five stories under Peter, but he had an idea. He shot a strand of webbing from his left wrist at the edge of the building, practically fell straight down, then the web caught itself on a streetlight, giving Peter the momentum he needed to make the turn and regain his height.

The Vulture wasn't too far ahead. In fact, he seemed just close enough to…

_THWIP!_

Peter took the chance and shot a ball of webbing the Vulture's way, and it was a direct hit. The thrusters on the wings got gummed up with the webbing and the Vulture started to descend and veer to the right.

"Oh boy." Said Peter. He jumped on the back of the Vulture.

"You fool! Look at what you have done!" Yelled the Vulture.

Upon closer inspection, Peter finally saw who the Vulture really was. "Adrian Toomes?" He asked.

"That's the Vulture to you, Spider!" Toomes retorted.

"Now, now, the name is Spider-Man. Say it with me: 'Spider-Man'."

Instead of trying to learn the proper name, Toomes decided to spout some names that Peter knew Aunt May wouldn't have allowed in her house.

"Geez, Toomes," Said Peter as he leaned left to balance the Vulture's flight. "With that mouth, this makes you the most vulgar damsel in distress I've ever saved."

Peter's head began to buzz. _Spider sense_, he thought. He checked around him and saw a semi-truck heading right for them. "Surf's up, bra!" He pulled the front of the Vulture's wings, using the updraft of the truck to send them over it. Unfortunately, the driver didn't seem so sure of Peter's plan as he had hoped, jerking the steering wheel to the right where someone was riding a motorcycle.

_Ah crap._ Peter thought. As quickly as possible, he analyzed his surroundings, then formed a plan. "Don't go anywhere!" He shouted at Toomes as he webbed Toomes's feet to a nearby lamp post to his right. Then, jumping off of Toomes's back as the web reached its elasticity, Peter launched over the truck and tackled the biker to the ground, the truck swerving and passing over them and missing by mere inches.

It was an adrenaline rush Peter wasn't sure he wanted to go through again. He lied there on the ground next to the biker, panting. He then got up and helped the biker. "You okay?"

"Yeah." The biker turned out to be a girl. She was thin, wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black leather jacket. She took off her helmet and long red hair flowed out. The rest of her face was stunning as well, with piercing green eyes and a celebrity smile. "You tackle bikers often 'round here, tiger?"

Peter was glad he was wearing a mask, or else she would've seen his face turn redder than his costume. However, it didn't help with his speech. "I… Uh… Um… Guh…"

The Vultures shouts of, to paraphrase, stuffing some of his metallic feathers up Peter's rear end brought Peter back to his senses. He turned to Adrian Toomes, hopelessly tied up to the lamp post.

"Why you little [blank], I oughta [blank] you [bla-]!"

_THWIP!_

"Calm down, Toomes. There's kids here!" Said Peter as he shot a web at the Vulture's mouth. He then webbed up the rest of him for good measure. He turned to the redhead. "Can you call the cops and have them pick up Mr. Potty Mouth over here?"

The girl pulled out her cell. "Got it, tiger."

Something about the way she said "tiger" made Peter feel like he was going to melt right there in front of her. But no, that's not how heroes act. Plus, he shouldn't even think about going with this girl. Not after…

Peter pushed the thought out of his head. No. He wasn't going to think about that… that moment. He'd been going strong as Spidey for six months now, better than ever before. And…

Peter looked at a digital clock from a shop across the street. 2:04 it read. He only had eleven minutes until class started.

"Uh, look miss." He said to the girl. "I'm glad you're okay, but I have to go… superheroing. You know, people to save, bad guys to web up, all that neat stuff."

He turned to swing away and the girl shouted behind him, "Go get'em, tiger!"

_Oh, please let this be the last time I see her_.

* * *

Of course, Parker luck only went so far.

Once Peter finally managed to change and reach his classroom for the first speech class of the semester, _that girl_ was already in the room, sitting in the third row to the right side of the room, chatting with a couple of other girls. Peter almost hid, then realized she had only saw him with the mask on. No worries.

Peter glanced at the end of the room and saw the professor setting up his papers and laptop. Peter took a seat in the second row on the left side of the room. Since he was close by, could hear pretty much everything the girl was saying.

"And then the truck was starting to turn in my direction, ready to cru-." She was interrupted when pop music blared from from the speakers. The music cut off quickly.

"Sorry." The professor said. He cleared his throat. "But I'm glad to get your attention. Welcome to COM 103, Introduction to Public Speaking. I'm Mr. Octavius, but please, call me Otto."

Something about that named perked Peter's ears, but he couldn't quite place it. He looked familiar: Short and plump with brown hair in a bowl cut.

"Before we begin," said Otto, "Do any of you have any questions?"

A student sitting in front of Peter raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr…?" Otto began.

"Brock." Said the student. "Eddie Brock, sir."

"Eddie," Said Otto, "What is your question?"

"Are you the same Otto Octavius that won many physicist awards?"

Peter's mind clicked. That's why the name was so familiar. Octavius was Stephen Hawking minus the paralysis, winning many awards for his advancement at understanding quantum physics and mechanical engineering. Peter remembered reading from a book back in high school that Octavius also created mechanical arms to help him with his studies at…

_Oscorp_. Peter thought reluctantly. _That place is like the unwanted source of my life_.

Octavius smiled at Eddie, beaming with pride. "Yes, that I am."

"So, why are you here teaching a speech class?" Asked Eddie.

"Because, Eddie," Octavius began, "Given that I am a scientist, I also have other interests and hobbies. I like teaching, especially to students wanting to learn, and I have learned all too hard that public speaking gets you far in any field. It teaches you to make your thoughts coherent so you don't lose your audience when you're introducing a new theory."

Eddie shrugged and leaned back in his seat. Apparently that was a good enough reason.

Peter, on the other hand, was filled with anxiety. This was one of his role models, someone he wanted to be, and here he was, just a few yards away, teaching him how to talk to a group of people. He made a mental note to get Octavius's autograph after class.

"And now, class," said Octavius as he booted up the projector, "Let's begin."

* * *

Peter had to hand it to Otto: He knew how to make an interesting presentation. All the content was well-organized, making it easy for everyone who cared about their grade to jot down notes. There were even little animations here and there that were actually funny and no where near corny. Otto had an eye for humor, that was certain.

After the presentation, there were only five minutes of class remaining. Octavius turned off the projector, took a swig of water, then asked, "Who would like to give a practice speech right here, right now?"

The room was silent.

"Who has a story to tell?" Otto pushed.

Slowly, the redhead girl Peter saved earlier raised her hand.

"Ah!" Said Otto with enthusiasm. "And what is your name?"

"Mary Jane Watson." Said the girl.

"Well, by all means, Ms. Watson, come down here and tell us your story."

Mary Jane got up and straightened her leather jacket as she went down to the podium. Octavius stood off to the side as Mary Jane took the view. Peter wasn't upset that he had a good seat.

"Anytime you're ready." Said Otto.

"Okay." Said Mary Jane. She cleared her throat. "It all started earlier today…" She recounted how she was on her way to class from lunch on her motorcycle when she had almost died. In very vivid detail Peter was sure he couldn't have come up with, Mary Jane talked about how Spider-Man had saved her. She also made sure on how she had rendered him speechless, to which Peter couldn't help but look down and smile.

"And time is up!" Said Octavius as he clapped his hands together. "That was an excellent story, Ms. Watson! I recommend speaking a bit slower, but your posture and eye contact were excellent!"

Mary Jane shyly smiled and nodded. She got off the podium and went to her seat. Her friends gave her silent praises as she gathered her stuff.

Peter put his notes into his pack and slung it over his shoulder. He got up and went to Octavius, who was powering down his laptop and packing his papers. "Mr. Octavius?" Said Peter.

"Please, just Otto is fine."

"Okay. Um, Otto?"

"Yes?" Otto looked up at Peter. Not annoyed, but as if Peter reminded him of someone.

"My name is Peter Parker. I'm a fan of your work." Peter felt like his chest was going to constrict itself.

"Parker…" Octavius seemed to ponder this. "Are you in any way related to Richard Parker?"

"Yes, actually." Said Peter. "I'm his son."

Octavius's face brightened up. "Well, I'll be damned!" He let out a chuckle. "I worked with Richard for a bit at Oscorp on a project. Was even invited to dinner at your house when you were still in diapers! My, you've grown up!"

Peter let out a chuckle. He met the Otto Octavius when he was a baby? "Well, that's news to me!"

"How's your old man doing? Still obsessed with spiders?"

Peter paused. Apparently Otto didn't hear about what happened to his parents. "Oh, um, he's dead actually."

Otto's smile faded. "Oh, I'm sorry…"

"No, no, it's okay. I was five, living with my aunt and uncle when my parents died in a plane crash. It's… It's old news."

Otto put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "I lost my parents when I was young too." He said. "In fact, my aunt and uncle took care of me as well."

Peter smiled. "And I want to be a scientist. Guess we're one and the same."

Otto let go of Peter's shoulder. "Maybe, if you pay attention in class."

"What are you talking about? I paid attention."

Otto shook his head and finished packing his stuff. "When I was giving the history of public speaking, you zoned out for that section."

"History isn't my thing." Peter countered. "You've found my weakness. Now my student life is at your mercy because I didn't pay full attention to the Greek terms for public speaking."

Otto laughed at the joke. "You're a funny kid, Peter. Your father was like that too, taught me a few things." He slung his bag over his shoulder. "I apologize for cutting this meeting short, but I have another class to get to, and you should always be punctual on the first day." He walked past Peter toward the door. "I look forward to the rest of the semester, Peter! Hope you can show some of that Parker brain to your classmates!"

"Will do, Otto!" Said Peter. "See you Wednesday!"

Otto then left, leaving Peter in the now empty room, realizing he forgot to ask for an autograph.


End file.
